


Wooden Brush

by CrowTrinkets



Category: Fictif, Last Legacy (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, MC braids felixs hair, Stella is good cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:06:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29365209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowTrinkets/pseuds/CrowTrinkets
Summary: MC goes to return a book to Felix but ends up doing more than just that.
Relationships: Anisa/Felix/Sage Lesath/You
Kudos: 24





	Wooden Brush

**Author's Note:**

> ty alexaplaysgames for giving me this prompt idea *insert that emoji with the side smile*

I trudged the hallways of Fathom allowing a rather large yawn to catch me by surprise. I finally finished one book given to me by Felix. A history book nonetheless, it was interesting but about as dry as any Earth history book. The moon wasn’t too high in the sky so I figured Felix was awake and I could return his book. Oh, who am I kidding of course he's awake. I finally find the door to his office and softly knock.

“Felix? Can I come in?” No answer. I take that as a yes and gently push on the door, wincing when the hinges squeak. I look around the darkened study, barely illuminated by a few candles. No Felix. Not at his desk, not at the kitchenette. The only spot left is the couch. I approach the soundless mound on top and find it to be Felix, fast asleep, with Stella resting on his stomach. She must have hopped up after he fell asleep. I stand behind the couch leaning forward so I can pet behind Stella's ears, earning a trill from her.

“Stella, I don’t think Felix wants you sleeping on him,” I whisper. Felix stirs, moving to lay on his side causing Stella to jump off and find a better sleep spot. I round the couch placing the book on the desk and approach Felix. Crouching down so I'm at his eye level. I examine his face before waking him. His soft features are barely illuminated by candlelight, the warm yellow dancing on his face, contrasted by the cool moonlight poking through the window. His usually furrowed brows are still and relaxed, and his signature smug smile is nowhere to be seen. Replaced by a slightly opened mouth, drooling on his sleeve. Oh if I had a camera I would take so many pictures. But all I can do is stare and capture this moment to memory. I decide I’ve looked long enough. I place a hand on his shoulder and slightly shake him.

“Felix… Felix, wake up. Don’t you think you should be sleeping on in your bed?” He grunts a response and turns to face the other way, wrapping an arm around his face, attempting to continue his slumber. I huff in response and move to the other side of the couch. Leaning on the back so I can try to look Felix in the face. 

“Felix! This cant be comfortable you may be short but this couch isn't that big,” He mumbles into his arm making it hard to understand what he's saying. “What?” This time he removes his arm, and looks up at me, eyes half-closed.

“I am perfectly comfortable where I lie, there is no need for insults,” he grimaces at me. I chuckle a little.

“You’re comfortable on the same couch as your skin book? Stella's favorite spot?” I question.

“Fair enough,” he remarks, sitting up. He attempts to run a hand through his hair but stops and winces. “Ah! My hair is a mess, Stella must have been trying to groom me again,” He looks around the room for her. I turn and spot her sitting in a loaf position on a chair. I give her a wink letting her know that I won't give away her position. I reach over and run a hand through his hair, but then my hand catches in a knot to which he winces.

“Sorry!”

“I have a comb somewhere around here, would you mind finding it for me? I’m afraid my eyes haven’t adjusted from being roused from my peaceful sleep,” Oh man he’s grumpy when he’s just woken up, I’ll humor him though I am the one that woke him. I scan the study, looking for anything that might resemble a comb or brush. I open various cabinets and draws. Only to find it being used as a bookmark in one of the many tomes piled in a stack. I turn the object in my hand, it’s wooden and has intricate carvings of flowers on the handle. 

“Found it!” Felix is now standing, attempting to tidy his mess of books, but his idea of cleaning is just stacking them in a pile. I approach Felix and observe his absolutely destroyed hair. His hair is always a little messy. Maybe more like messy cute, but it’s especially bad at this moment.

“Can I brush your hair?” It comes out before I think about it. He whips around to gawk at me, cheeks flushed pink. "I-I'm sorry I didn't"

"Ok," Is all he manages to say.

"…Ok," is all I can manage to respond with. I walk over to the couch and sit, making space between my legs. "It would be easier if you sat on the floor," I say. All he can do is nod and move to place himself between my knees. My hands start to tremble. Is this actually happening? I take the comb and start at the bottom of Felix’s hair, untangling the knots as I go. The quiet sound of the wooden brush running through Felix’s soft hair acts as a metronome. Repetitive and almost hypnotic. I can feel his shoulders relax as either of my knees bump them while I work through his hair. I get caught on a knot which earns a pained groan from Felix.

“Sorry! You um, you have quite a lot of hair,” I attempt to make conversation.

“Well yes, I have not had the time to visit a hairdresser,” he deadpans.

“R-right,” I continue to brush through his hair, hands still shaking as my face warms with a blush. “Have you ever had your hair braided?” Felix cranes his neck to look up at me.

“You want to braid my hair?” He says, utter confusion twisting his features.

“Well, it might be fun,” I say. He gives me a nod and turns around.

“I don’t know if I would call it fun, but… it may be interesting,” I take that as a yes. I run the comb through his hair once again and set it aside. I run my fingers over his scalp from front to back, bringing his hair back so I can braid it. I can't tell if I imagined it but I think I can feel his body shiver as I do so. I run my index fingers from his temples and back, bringing his hair where I want it.

“You uh, don’t have as much hair as Sage so it might be a little tight,” I say leaning forward towards his right ear.

“N-no matter,” his voice hitches slightly. I can't tell who is more flustered at this point, but it is a bit of fun teasing him. I begin to section his hair accordingly, leaving his bangs out. I start to French braid his hair, being careful not to pull on it. His hair is soft in my fingers, almost too silky to keep a hold on, catching whiffs of morning dew and tea as I braid his locks together. I lean to the side slightly as I work, hoping to catch a glimpse of Felix’s face. I can see a tinge of pink in his ears that spread to his cheeks, his eyes closed, and brows relaxed. Is he enjoying this? I hope he is. He opens one eye to look at me, to which I sit up turning my attention back on his hair. Once I finish braiding down, I grab the trusty hair tie, that always sits on my wrist, and I tie off the end. Securing his braid. I clap my hands on his shoulders.

“All done!” Felix yelps slightly. He stands, stretching his legs after sitting on the floor. “Oh wait, actually sit here I need to fix your bangs,” I pat the spot of the couch next to me and Felix sits without protest or comment. I run my fingers through his bangs, adjusting them so they sit properly on his face. Framing it nicely. I find a stray strand and groan, I must have missed it. I take it and tuck it behind his ear with slow movements. I then spot Felix, staring at me intently. I keep my hand hovering by his ear, too scared to move. Up close I can see just how stormy his eyes are, they look like they carry the weight of a thousand burdens, his cheeks are flushed pink, and his mouth slightly agape. I then rest my hand on his cheek. His eyes flick down to my lips for a split second. I don’t even realize that I'm moving. Moving ever so closer to Felix’s perfectly, adorably flushed face. His half-lidded eyes drawing me in like some sort of spell.

“Felix,” I whisper, mere inches from his lips touching mine, and then-

*BOOM*

“Hey Felix have you seen-“ I jump away from Felix so fast, I'm surprised I didn’t open a wormhole that sent me back to Earth. Felix also lept back, but miscalculated and landed on the floor with an oof. I turn to see Sage, standing in the doorway. I try to cover my blush with my hand, hoping it’s too dark for Sage to see. Felix stands quickly, straightening his clothes, and clears his throat.

“Sage! Have you ever thought to knock for once in your life?” Felix’s voice waves slightly high as he scolds Sage. Avoiding eye contact with either of us.

“Oh my, was I interrupting something?” Sage leans on the doorway. Eyes shifting between us both, a shit-eating grin growing on his lips.

“I-I was returning Felix’s book,” I lean over and pick up a random book, lifting it in the air hoping a prop makes my story more convincing. I mean it was the truth. Was.

“U-Uhm, yes, MC came to return my book, yes, thank you, I will give you a new one tomorrow if you'd like,” Felix says to me, still avoiding my eyes. I nod in response. Standing from the couch handing his book back.

“Well, why is your hair braided? Trying to go for the sexy dangerous look I got going?” Sage says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Cause they don’t seem to be into it, trust me I tried,” Sage points to me as he speaks. I can feel the embarrassment bottle up inside me, threatening to explode.

“Goodnight!” I shout. I then stormed out of the room, trying to escape my embarrassment. Did that just happen?

The next morning Felix and I don’t bring up the, ahem, events from the previous night. However, he still wears the braid I did for him when I see him. He offers to return my hair tie but I tell him he can keep it, I have plenty. But really, I think the French braid is a good look for him, and I want him to keep it on longer. I should return his books late at night more often.


End file.
